


new traditions

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Hanukkah, M/M, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 14:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: “No, dude,” Newt says softly. “I want to agree on this together. I want to do something that we both want to do.”Hermann’s sitting on their couch, holding up an ornament in confusion and admiration as Newt sorts through a decade worth of cards at his feet.“I didn’t mind the parties at the Shatterdome,” Hermann explains, gingerly placing the ornament back in the small box beside him before picking up another. “I suppose it’s still early enough to celebrate Hanukkah this year, which only seems fair if we’re going to celebrate Christmas.”“I did both growing up,” Newt adds. “I just never got around to getting a Menorah when I got older and it was always harder to celebrate that alone.”He nudges his foot against Newt’s thigh. “I think we should celebrate both, then. No need to disregard our heritage, right?”





	new traditions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cajynn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajynn/gifts).



> A Secret Santa gift to the lovely Gaby, whose passion for Hanukkah sweaters and some other things inspired this piece!!!!

The best thing about starting a life together with someone is that you can create your own traditions. Okay, there are other best things including (and not limited to): learning about someone’s daily habits, christening every room in your apartment with vigorous sex, having someone to go home to at night, and not having to do all of the dishes or cooking by yourself. Not that Hermann has had to do his own cooking for several years, given that he’s been living in the Shatterdome for such a long time he’s almost forgotten how to grocery shop. He’s learned enough, at least, to know that Newt puts far too many snacks in the cart when they go to the store. He’s yet to learn enough, though, to actually tell Newt to put away some of the items he’s buying.

They had holidays at the Shatterdome. Usually the barest hints of all of the big holidays, culminating in a party that “coincidentally” occurred a few days before Christmas where they were allowed alcohol and secular holiday decorations took over part of the Shatterdome. One year, a jokester had tried to hang mistletoe which, through some tragedy, ended in Hermann kissing three different people and Newt pretending he was not jealous before kissing him without the assistance of any meaningless plant.

Now they have a singular sprig of mistletoe hanging in the doorway of their office. Newt had tried to hang up several around the apartment, climbing onto a step ladder to affix them to the ceiling, but Hermann made him take them down. (The trauma of ending up under the mistletoe with Hercules Hansen is not something a man can easily overcome.)

With Newt and his enthusiasm and his mistletoe came a box full of dusty holiday decorations. When he’d unpacked the things he looked at Hermann expectantly and received a non-committal shrug. As a child, he’d celebrated Hanukkah but it was never much of a priority, nor were any other religious traditions. It wasn’t something he’d felt was lacking, and he tried to explain this to Newt carefully. The winter holidays do not have to have a meaning to everyone, but he has no problem with Newt’s ornaments and artificial white tree. Whatever makes him happy.

“No, dude,” Newt says softly. “I want to agree on this together. I want to do something that we both want to do.”

Hermann’s sitting on their couch, holding up an ornament in confusion and admiration as Newt sorts through a decade worth of cards at his feet.

“I didn’t mind the parties at the Shatterdome,” Hermann explains, gingerly placing the ornament back in the small box beside him before picking up another. “I suppose it’s still early enough to celebrate Hanukkah this year, which only seems fair if we’re going to celebrate Christmas.”

“I did both growing up,” Newt adds. “I just never got around to getting a Menorah when I got older and it was always harder to celebrate that alone.”

He nudges his foot against Newt’s thigh. “I think we should celebrate both, then. No need to disregard our heritage, right?”

“Besides, we might as well try a little bit of everything when it comes to holidays, just to see what fits, right?”

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right, Newton. If we don’t want to do this in the future, we can forego it, but the world is at our feet.”

“Can we get a fun menorah, at least?”

“Not a chance.”

The next day they purchase a traditional silver menorah and, as a compromise, Newt buys a novelty sweater where he can switch the lights on and off. Hermann hates it in the sense that he’ll never admit just how charmed he is by it. Overall, it’s very in character for Newt.

What’s also in character for Newt is buying a matching sweater. There are photographs and they circulate around their group of friends but, more importantly, end up on the mantle above their fireplace. Hermann has to admit that he looks happier in the photograph than he has for years, perhaps in his life.

 

They don’t exchange presents every night of Hanukkah because that seems like a bit too much with Christmas around the corner, but they do set aside an hour for reflection and one night Newt gets out an old family recipe for latkes. It’s understated in comparison to the garish white tree in their living room, but Hermann loves it. He loves the white tree, too, and the assortment of odd ornaments they’ve picked up over the past several weeks.

What Hermann’s not accounted for is how much work goes into setting up a holiday. There’s been hours of shopping and writing cards and decorating, and these are just the things they’ve chosen to do. They’ve declined about half of the party invitations they’ve received and chosen not to visit his sister. (Next year no doubt, Karla, they’d promised.)

Now, it’s Christmas Eve and it feels like they’re staring at a stretch of next to nothing to do after many weeks of preparations. Newt’s set out a plate of mostly unburnt holiday cookies and lit the electric fire before insisting they spend the rest of the evening cuddling on the couch. Hermann’s wearing a witty pair of socks that say “if you’re reading this, bring me wine” on the soles and Newt’s in a sweater with caroling cats knitted on the front. It’s a perfect, mostly quiet evening.

“I have a suggestion,” Newt says softly, with his head resting on Hermann’s shoulder.

Hermann turns to him, biting back a smile that he thinks is excessive, and shifts closer. “Yes?”

“I think we should open one present on Christmas Eve.”

“Is that one of your traditions?”

“No.”

“Then you’re just being greedy,” Hermann teases.

Newt grins and turns to face Hermann. He really can’t resist himself but to kiss Newt then and there. Part of the reason why the mistletoe seems excessive, in fact, is because of how easily and how often he can kiss Newt now. There’s no prying eyes, and the only stress they have these days is planning lectures or grading assignments.

“Don’t see how it’s greedy. You’d get a gift too.”

He kisses Newt again, a bit more insistent this time. He’s certainly not opposed to a little greediness tonight, especially if it’s mutually beneficial, he just doesn’t think he has the same thing in mind as Newt does. His hand slides up Newt’s cat sweater and he can feel Newt practically melt into the kiss.

“I’ll think about it,” Hermann mutters against his mouth.

“What’s there to think about?”

“This.” He slides the hand further up Newt’s chest, thumbing teasingly at a nipple. “And this.”

“You might find a very good present for you under the tree,” Newt says, squeezing Hermann’s knee before he slides his hand up his thigh.

“Hmm, I suppose if we make this part of the tradition as well, I’ll allow it.”

Pulling away, Newt laughs. He runs his hand through his hair in that boyishly charming way he has and then fumbles to his feet to grab two boxes for each of them. Of course Newt’s been eyeing up something under the tree. Hermann has the distinct image in his mind of Newt shaking his boxes to have a guess what’s inside. He hands a box to Hermann before settling back down in his spot.

“Thank you, darling,” Hermann says, punctuating his statement with a kiss.

Newt’s wasted no time in ripping off the wrapping paper for his present. When he opens the box, he pretends to be surprised to find tickets to a concert he’s been hinting about for months. He shows his appreciation through a very warm hug. Affection is becoming easier, Hermann thinks, but it’s always surprising to him that this is a part of his daily life now. Warmth. Love. The ability to fall asleep easily in the arms of the man that he loves.

“I didn’t even realize you were listening when I talked about this show, Herms,” Newt explains. “And you’re gonna go with me?”

“Of course I listen, I listen to everything you say, even if I don’t understand half of it.”

“You’re the best. Honestly the best. Now, uh. Open yours.”

The way Newt’s blushing should be indication enough that there’s something unpredictable in the box he’s chosen. Newt, after all, knows fully well whatever’s in the box, and Hermann does not. As a habit, Hermann unwraps things slowly, taking his time to be precise in his motions to savor the moment. This only leaves Newt leaning forward by increments in some sort of anticipation of the moment.

Given Newt’s embarrassed nature and eagerness for him to open the present, he expects something sweet or sentimental. Instead, what he opens is a massager. Well, it says on the box it’s a massager, Hermann may seem repressed but he knows exactly what sort of massages this sort of vibrating wand is usually giving.

“Newton.”

“Hermann?”

“What precisely am I supposed to do with this?”

“I can give you a demonstration in the bedroom if you want.”

Hermann pauses for a moment, like he’s debating it, and then presses the button to turn off their electric fireplace.

“I suppose I can be convinced.”

If this becomes a tradition, Hermann suspects that he’s going to love spending all of his remaining holidays with Newt. Not that there was ever a doubt in his mind of that happening.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter @ newtguzzler and tumblr @ pendragoff


End file.
